The Minstrel of Diagon Alley
by Lady Amara
Summary: AU. Mel is Sirius' cousin, trapped in the house that torments them both. Sirius takes her to the Potter's house with him. Then she dissapears when the Potters are attacked by Death Eaters. Is she the mysterious, enchaning myth that surrounds the fameo
1. It Hurts

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Sorry. Wish I did, though. Then Sirius would be alive and so would Dumbledore and Voldie would be cool. But he isn't. So I don't own Harry Potter.

A/N: Hey, here I am, with an idea I cooked up not too long ago. Next chappie will be up shortly. Review, if you want, or just read. Dedicated to my little sister, Purpledragongirl, who happens to be the inspiration for Mel.

**The Minstrel of Diagon Alley**

**Chapter 1 - It Hurts**

"Sirius?" called the seven-year-old as she knocked on her cousin's door. There was a moment of fumbling, along with a thump and a string of curses. Menalippe winced, guessing that Sirius had just fallen out of bed. She didn't blame him; it was just a bit past midnight and he would be quite groggy from sleeping for about three hours already.

The small girl settled herself near the door, still standing, for it hurt to sit. She gently cradled her left arm, which was bent at an unnatural angle between the elbow and wrist. Bruises decorated much of her visible body, and one long scar was laid on her right cheek. She was used to the nightly beatings, from her father when he came home from work. Normally, they didn't result in anything major; she was just seven, after all.

Just then, the door opened, and a rather tired-looking Sirius Black opened the door. At age 16, he was just below six foot, and had the muscles of a Beater. His long, black hair lay in a rumpled mess, covering his gray eyes. He blinked for a second, looked around, and finally saw his cousin.

"Mel?" He took one look at her appearance before ushering her into his room. Closing the door behind her, he murmured 'Lumos'. Eight candles immediately lit. "Mel, what's wrong?"

Menalippe sniffed once. "Siri... it hurts..." She sniffed again.

Sirius knelt down. "Your arm?" Mel nodded. "Can I see it?" Mel nodded again, trusting her cousin. He reached out and took her arm with the utmost care, barely putting pressure on it.

Inwardly, he swore. _Damn you, Corvas, for doing this to her. She'll never trust anyone after you, you damn bastard. Damn you to hell for what you've done. _Looking back into the gray eyes similar to his own, Sirius made a decision. _She can't stay here. She'll get killed, at the rate this is going._ He gave her back her arm, than made her sit on the bed. When she winced, he had her lay down.

Sirius knelt down so that they were at eye level. "Mel," he began, "do you want to leave here?"

She sat up. "No! You can't stay here alone!" Tears pricked her eyes again. Sirius winced. He hated it when she cried. _I also hate it when she gets hurt. _Mel winced once and her right hand twitched toward her broken arm.

"Mel, no, I'll be coming, too. Do you want to go?" The teen brushed the girl's dark brown hair from her face. Mel's eyes were lit with hope. _She deserves so much better than this,_ thought Sirius grimly.

"Really? We can go?" As Sirius nodded again, she squealed. The gleeful look in her eyes was quickly replaced, however, by the former pain.

"Listen, Mel, just stay in here and be quiet." Mel nodded quickly. "I'll go and pack your things, then come back here and pack mine. After that, we can fly on my broom to..." he trailed off, wondering where they could go. Sirius would hate to impose a young girl on Mrs. Potter, his first idea, but where else was there? The two fugitives would certainly be searched for; a public place would not do. Remus' house was too small, and his family didn't have enough money to support another two children, and Peter's was out of the question. Deciding that he could easily pay back Mrs. Potter for the money she might spend on them, "We can fly to James' house. Would you like that?" Mel blinked uneasily, than nodded. Sirius carefully opened the door to the hallway and crept out and down the hall to the girl's room.

Just after, another wave of pain and nausea swept over Mel. Whimpering quietly, she doubled over and willed herself not to throw up. She clamped her eyes shut against the growing throb of her arm and lower back. Nothing besides the pain penetrated the growing darkness; as the arms of unconsciousness wrapped around her, she blearily whispered her cousin's name, than all was black, and she knew no more.

Sirius returned a few minutes later to Mel curled up in a tight ball, seemingly sleeping. Setting down her small blue bag, he gathered what school supplies he had, a few sets of clothes, his wand, and anything else deemed necessary and irreplaceable. Carefully fastening these two packs together with string, he set off to find his broomstick, a Silver Arrow. It appeared in a closet two floors up; he brought it down and went back into his room.

Hoisting the two bags on his back, he went to wake up Mel. "C'mon, we're leaving, now." When he got no response, he carefully poked her head. She didn't respond. "Mel? We're going. You need to wake up." Sirius shook her slightly, careful of her broken arm and numerous cuts. When he still got no response, Sirius began to panic. "Mel? Mel. _Mel..._ _Mel!_ _Menalippe!"_

_What happened? Why isn't she waking up? Oh, God, Mel... _Sirius' panicked mind searched through everything he knew in hopes to solve this new problem. _Alright... fretting won't do anything. Deep breath in, deep breath out._ Sirius immediately did as his mind told him and felt better for doing so. _Now, what do we know, why could she not be waking up?_

_She's dead... _A shudder ran through Sirius' body at the thought; he quickly pushed it away, before his over-imaginative mind went haywire. _No. She's breathing. Did she faint?_

_No. She would have woken up by now._

_Then... she must have blacked out. _But why?

Remus' voice shot through his mind like a shot in the night.

_"It's the pain that's the worst, though," said the golden-haired boy as he lay in his bed in the hospital wing. James, Peter, and Sirius sat by him, having witnessed for the first time their companion's monthly transformation. "It feels like... thousands of knives tearing at your skin, and all of your bones breaking at the same time, and your muscles feel like they've just been through a meat grinder. Sometimes, it hurts so badly, that I just go unconscious, and don't wake up again until the moon's set."_

Did Mel black out from the pain?

"Mel, come on," he whispered, even though the girl could not hear him. Gently lifting her in his arms (for he was not allowed to use magic, being underage), Sirius threw open the window in his bedroom. He held his hand out over his broom, and it immediately shot up, knowing its owner's whims. Sirius mounted the broom, set Mel in front of him and steered himself toward the window. Carefully ducking the top of the frame, they slid outside without a problem. Sirius turned; he shut the window before setting his sights towards the stars. They glided noiselessly through the clouds, Mel back in his arms, their packs on his back, the countryside passing below him, old life of sorrow behind them, a light of hope ahead in the clear night.


	2. But I'm Safe

Disclaimer: See Chapter one

A/N: Here you go, next chappie! Still a bit slow, I know, but I'll get to the main story line soon, and then things will pick up. Thanks to every one who has read so far!

**The Minstrel of Diagon Alley**

**Chapter 2 - But I'm Safe**

Sirius flew as close to the ground as he dared, searching for the Potter Mansion. He had been there twice already - he had stayed with James for Christmas last year and the year before that. Keeping Mel safely tucked in his arms, the animaigus turned to the left, scanning the land below him. Just as he was about to turn to the right, he saw a glimmer of white. Looking closer, he recognized it as his destination and took off towards it.

The sun was sending its first glimmers of daylight across the grassy lawn as Sirius touched ground. The Potter Mansion was huge, with three stories, two wings, and at least fifty random rooms with everything anyone could think of in them. Puzzling for a moment as to how he would carry his sleeping cousin and his broomstick, he decided to forgo the later and headed straight toward the large front doors. He tapped the handle once with his wand, pocketed it again, stood back, and waited.

A few seconds later, a small house elf opened the door. It was wearing a red sheet that had been tailored, with a gold trim at the bottom. Sirius grinned despite himself.

"Hello, Tinker. Can I come in?" The elf looked up at him, than at Mel in his arms. He stepped aside.

"Of course, Mister Sirius Black. Young Master Potter has been telling Tinker all about you, and the Lady Potter has been saying that if Mister Sirius Black is to be coming, than Tinker was supposed to let Mister Sirius Black in. And Tinker has been very excited for the next time Mister Sirius Black was to come, because Mister Sirius Black is a very good man, sir." Tinker stopped in her speech to take in the small girl.

"Tinker has been wondering about the girl in Mister Sirius Black's arms. If the Sir would be willing to tell Tinker why she is hurt, then Tinker will see about trying to help Mister Sirius Black's friend." Taking Sirius' shirt in one hand, Tinker led the boy to the informal sitting room. "Mister Sirius Black can let his friend rest here until Tinker can wake up the Sir and tell him that Mister Sirius Black is here."

Gently laying Mel on a couch, Sirius turned to Tinker. "Thank you, Tink. But you can call me Sirius, if you want. I'm no Mister." He had had this conversation with the elf numerous times.

Tinker nodded, ears flapping. "Of course, Mister Sirius." Then she disappeared with a loud _pop_.

Sirius sighed, then turned back to Mel. Her face was no longer twisted with pain, but it still showed the signs of discomfort. He carefully pulled her hair back from her face, worry for his cousin making his hand shake. "Oh, Mel, I'm so sorry this ever happened to you…" He traced the long scar that went from her upper cheekbone to her chin. "…It'll never happen again. Not any more. You're safe."

Mel had been the light of his life, especially before he had gone to Hogwarts. Sirius still remembered the day he first saw her, just born, tiny, innocent of the evils of the world. He himself had been only nine. Then, as she grew older, he watched out for her. When he left for Hogwarts, she could talk, but only a bit. When he came back, she was having very deep conversations for her age.

They had done everything together. Braved the abuse common in their house, snuck about exploring passageways, pranking anyone who was annoying them. Always, every day, Mel insisted on going outside. They would pretend to be explorers off to hunt dragons, or wolves prowling in the forest, or they'd just sit and tell stories to each other. Sirius would tell about his new friends at Hogwarts and the adventures they had, and Mel would tell about what her wild imagination had come up with. They would talk for hours, usually ending with the three or four year old continuing a tale she had started weaving many days ago.

Life had slowly become less pleasant as Sirius, and later Mel, rebelled against their parents and their beliefs. The adults couldn't hurt Sirius too badly, for he had to go to school; the teachers would notice if he arrived black and blue. They could, however, do whatever they wanted with Mel, for no one could or would stand up for her for many years to come. Sirius would come home from summer holidays, expecting to see the radiant smile of his younger cousin. He was met with the scarred, tattered girl who was only a ghost of who she once was.

"Sirius?" The teenager jerked around quickly, startled from his thoughts. Both Mr. and Mrs. Potter were standing behind him, dressed but not quite ready for the day. Mrs. Potter came forward immediately. "Oh, Sirius, what are you doing here? Are you alright?" She knelt in front of him, examining him as only a worried mother can.

Mr. Potter came up behind his wife. "Is that your cousin you mentioned last Christmas? Menalippe?" Sirius just nodded, still mute from the surprise of seeing them.

"Oh, my…" exclaimed the woman in front of Sirius. She had just noticed Mel on the couch. Her cheeks brightened, and her eyes flashed, reminding Sirius of his best friend James Potter. "Did that Corvas do this?" Sirius nodded once more.

"Is there something you can do? I think she's blacked out; her arm's been broken since midnight, and she's been bleeding on and off for some time now, on her face." He paused, looking at the long gash on her face. It had been given to her long ago, but tended to become reopened every now and then.

Mr. Potter left the room. Sirius wondered for a second where he had gone, until his thoughts trailed across the fact that he worked as an Auror. All Aurors were trained in the art of basic healing. He must have gone to get a potion of some sort. Mrs. Potter was already tending to the girl, cleaning her face with a gentle washing spell. As she finished, she turned to Sirius.

"Are you hurt, dear?" Sirius shook his head.

"They wouldn't, even if they tried. They'd have to stun me to get close to me, and that wouldn't be very fun," he said bitterly. He scowled darkly in the general direction of a dark corner.

Mr. Potter came back into the room, a few small vials in one hand and his wand in the other. "Sirius, can you move over a bit? I need to be able to look at that scar on her face…"

Tinker grabbed Sirius' hand. "Mister Sirius is hungry, Tinker is betting. Would Mister Sirius like some eggs? Tinker can make them for Mister Sirius, over-easy like he is been wanting, like last time." Sirius nodded, then stood. The small elf led Sirius through the house and to the dining room, then disappeared to make breakfast.

Sirius sighed and let his head drop down onto the table. It had been a long night, flying for six hours straight… how many times did he have to turn around and start again? To land, and check on Mel? He was sore and tired, but he couldn't fall asleep, because his mind was just starting to get past the numbness of the cold flight.

A plate appeared on the table not too long after. Sirius stared at the eggs for a long moment, before grabbing his fork and digging in with the ferocity of a starving wolf. Soon enough, the plate was clean, and the fork was set down, and the dishes were cleared by the magic that belonged to house elves. Feeling slightly better then he had before, Sirius let his head drop down again. He was asleep a minute later, dreaming of tales woven by his cousin long ago.

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A/N: Reviews? Anyone? The marauders are hungry... 


	3. Just Like Breathing

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

A/N: Wow! Thank you so much to fallenstar127, Hobbits01, and Erik's Ange de la Musique for your lovely reviews! I hope that you guys, and all of my other anonymous readers, enjoy this chapter!

**The Minstrel of Diagon Alley**

**Chapter 3 - Just Like Breathing**

Sirius awoke in a bed. As he opened his eyes, he noticed he wasn't in his bed, in his room, in his house. Sitting up, Sirius examined the room. Decorated in gold and a pale cream color, it had a large open window that made artificial lights unnecessary. He looked down at the blankets. Near the foot of the bed was a coat-of-arms. The Potter coat-of-arms. Sirius remembered.

Quickly standing, Sirius wondered how long he had been asleep. His eyes fell on a fresh set of clothes on one of the chairs in the room, so he changed before walking down the hallway. Down the stairs, down another hallway, left, and the first door on the right…

Next moment, Sirius was on his back, on the ground, with one very excited James Potter on top of him. "Hellu, Pads!" said the raven-haired boy.

Sirius blinked, before giving his best mate a half-hearted grin. "Nice to see you, too, Prongsie." Pushing the other boy's weight off of himself, Sirius stood. "Where's Mel?"

James' expression became serious so quickly, the other could not help but be frightened. "Prongs? How is Mel?" Sirius stared at his friend anxiously.

"She's… Sirius, I don't know how… I'm so sorry…" James looked to the ground. Sirius stared at him, open-mouthed. A bolt of fright shot through him, blanking his mind of all thoughts except the implications of this statement.

"No… James… what happened?" When James didn't answer, but continued staring at the floor, Sirius came up to him. "James." Sirius grabbed his shoulders. "What." He shook his shoulders once. "Happened." He shook his shoulders again, with more force. "To." He shook his shoulders once again. "Mel." He added an extra shake, to get his point across.

"I'm right here, Siri!" A small giggle came from behind him. Sirius flipped, to see his cousin standing behind one of the couches, a grin across her face. Relief swept over Sirius so strongly, he felt weak at the knees. Rushing forward, he scooped the fragile girl into his arms and spun her around. Mel squealed happily, clinging tightly to Sirius' arms, and let herself laugh.

A grin split Sirius' face. It had been so long since he had heard Mel laugh, so long since she had been carefree…. No more than a bandage wrap showed that her arm had been broken. The scar on her face looked better than it had in ages. And the light in her eyes glimmered stronger, strong enough to light the entire room. Carefully, Sirius set Mel on the ground, hugged her once more, before turning to James.

James immediately stopped laughing at the look on Sirius' face. "Erm… Padfoot, mate, it was just a joke…" he trailed off as Sirius bolted towards him. Just as the boy's head collided with his stomach in a full-out tackle, James let out a frightened squeak that can be only described as a cross between "Meep!" and "Eek!".

Sitting comfortably on James' stomach, Sirius cocked his head at his friend. "Did you just say 'Eek'?" As the other boy blushed, Sirius burst out laughing. "You did! Oh my… I have to tell Moony this once we get to school! Just imagine," here he paused in his cackles and straightened before putting on his best imitation of James-in-love, "'Oh, Lily,'" he fluttered his eyes and swooned, "'I love you so much, every time I think of you… Every time I see you… I go…'" Mel came to stand by Sirius as he finished dramatically, "'…_Eek._'"

Mel giggled. "'Oh, James,'" she sighed dramatically, looking at Sirius, "'that is the most _romantic _thing anyone has ever said to me… Kiss me, you fool!'" With that, she threw herself into Sirius' arms, and they both cracked up laughing.

James had turned a beet red. "Oy! I'd never say that! And Lily, she'd _never_ say that!"

"How do you know," queried a voice from the doorway. All three turned to look into the face of Mrs. Potter, "that you have to wait until school starts before you can tell your friends this…" she glanced at her son and grinned, "…_interesting_… development with our favorite boy's romantic career?"

James cocked his head to one side, unconsciously imitating his friend's previous actions. "Mum, what do you mean?" Mrs. Potter just smiled.

Both the boys' eyes widened. "You mean… then that means… do they… Oh, cool!" cried both, giving up trying to talk and instead looking at each other excitedly.

Mel looked between the three older people, slightly confused. She shook her head. No, make that _very_ confused. Both Sirius and James started babbling to each other in sentences that didn't make sense. _Boys are so weird,_ she thought to herself.

Scooting herself out of Sirius' lap, Mel watched the scene for a few minutes more before heading out of the room, down the hallway, and up the stairs. _Where did Mrs. Potter say my room was?_ Wandering for a while, Mel eventually came to what she thought was the right room. Opening the door, however, proved that she was wrong.

As the seven-year-old looked into the room, she could not help but gasp in awe. It was clearly a music room. In the center was a gorgeous grand piano, black, with polished white ivory keys and sheet music spread on the stand. On one wall was an assortment of instruments: guitars, violins, cellos, flutes, trumpets, saxophones, clarinets, trombones, and various percussions. They sparkled in the light of the open window, reflecting rainbows on the wall opposite. _That_ wall was covered with posters, fingering charts, sheet music (_why is there music stuck on the wall?_), and other pieces of paper, along with little yellow squares, which, if Mel had known much about muggle stationary, would be quickly defined as post-it notes.

In one corner of the room was a large drum set; in another corner were about ten chairs and ten music stands which were also covered in music. The entire room had a well-used look to it; everything was polished, even if there were fingerprints on most everything.

Turning to leave, something caught her eye. She looked back to the instrument wall. There, in the far corner, was something that her first pass had missed. A small, recorder-like object was sitting on a small shelf made for it. Curious, she made to move toward it. She paused, however, and turned back to the door. Years of living in the House of Black had taught her not to do things that might not be allowed.

As in, don't let yourself get caught doing things that are not allowed.

Mel closed the door, then made her way back to the mysterious instrument. Her heart was hammering in her chest, similar to when the time came for her father to get home, but yet so different. She could feel a burning wash through her, flood her veins in a very peculiar manner, yet clearing her mind so effectively that all she could think about was that instrument. Somewhere, in a dark recess of her mind, she wondered if the instrument was enchanted; that thought did not have any time to grow, however, for Mel had touched the object.

The fire in her veins coursed through her right arm, into her hands, into her fingertips, closing itself around the recorder. Mel brought her other hand up to it, carefully lifted it down from its shelf. Without thinking, she placed her fingers over the open holes, brought the mouthpiece to her mouth, and blew into it.

The feeling was incredible. It was like satisfying a desperate, desert-induced thirst with the most refreshing, cool, clear water in the world. It was like calming her pounding heart, even if her heart wasn't pounding. Some deep urge in her had been fulfilled, some deep longing she had never known she had had been replaced with what she longed for, and her heart was soaring. She was soaring. She wasn't Menalippe Black any more. She was just a spirit, no more than a soul, rejoicing in a freedom she had never previously felt.

Her mind and her fingers melded together; every emotion she felt was translated into music which was translated to notes and the notes were translated into finger positions that she just _knew_ how to play. It was like breathing. No more thought to it.

Without knowing it, Menalippe Black had just sealed her destiny forever.

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A/N: The 'Get Everyone In The World A Flute' fund is going low. We need reviews to keep the club going! ' R&R please! 


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